But one story must end for a new one to being, and the tales of Alexander, Gael and Glafx had ended long ago. Ovid’s bloody legs jerk and he stood up.

The young man raised his head slowly and looked at the red figure benevolently. He smiled in a self-deprecating manner, I guess it is somewhat silly that I expect my name to be remembered by the young generation after one hundred thousand years. Other than gods, who can be remembered after so many years.

Sage Glafx was a truly incredible figure, were it not for the sudden end to Alexander’s empire ten thousand years ago, he would likely be taught in the same manner that a major figure like Aristotle would have in Ovid’s world.

Ovid indeed was not aware of who Glafx was, but even an ordinary person would feel a sense of reverence towards the man. The reason that Ovid had been so nonchalant was that he felt it was rude to continue to occupy the seemingly young man, after all, he had willingly accepted his fate to be imprisoned here as a redemption for his crimes.

The young man said gently, “I had never expected someone to be able to pass through Gael’s tomb and that a young person as exceptional as yourself would enter. I’m sure that there is much outstanding youth in today’s world. Although my story is bland and not very interesting. I hope you can stay and listen as you are the future of the world.”

Ovid was puzzled. When Glafx last passed his knowledge to Alexander, did it not destroy the future prospects of the elves? He had many years to reflect and was a wise individual. How could he be so quick to select Ovid as a successor?

However, even with Ovid’s suspicious nature, he subconsciously relaxed under the benevolent gaze in Sage Glafx’s deep-set eyes. There was no reason to not stay longer and he once more sat on the stone floor.

---

“When Alexander first became a supreme expert, I found much comfort. He had found a way to adapt elven manuals to fit the conditions of the human body. To tell the truth, to this day I am not sure how he managed to do so even after one hundred thousand years.”

“That day, I saw my pupil Gael challenge him. He used a single punch and defeated Gael instantly. I watched as Alexander stripped Gael of all his possession, even his clothing.”

The seemingly young man paused for a long time when he got to this part. Then, he said softly, “I thought then, that no matter what happens, whether Alexander would quietly meditate and pass away, or become a key player on the continent, that I have done my part to spread knowledge throughout the world.”

Ovid thought that this was the right way to do things.

The young mans’ voice was filled with regret and pain. “However, I have never seen someone so insane in my entire life.”

The young man sighed with deep emotion, “I was travelling to the northern continent at the time Alexander started to expand rapidly. Since the ocean required even a saint six years to pass I received the information very late, and could no nothing when my foot stepped on this continent again. The whole world thought I had died at sea, but I was actually present since Alexander first assembled his invading force.”

The young man glanced around the burial chamber warmly, as if staring past it and seeing the many prosperous cities that had littered the forest. He slowly continued, “To a philosopher, rulers and rotten jerks and the masses are no more than manipulative fools who could be purchased with bread and circuses. Indeed, that is not far from the truth, all the cities would end up installing tyrants and the masses cared very little as long as there is enough food. The elven army also kidnapped others and forced them to be slaves, as such, they really don’t have many morals, and could not be considered an ideal society.”

“At my birth, we elves were at the peak of our strength and was divided into six major powers with over one thousand city-states. Each city-state was different, from their rulers to their magic manuals. Some were even similar to the kingdoms of the North. If that’s the case, for what reason were elves suppressed, and humans made the hegemony race?”

The young man withdrew his attention and looked at the person in front of him, as he said calmly, “Just like any other civilization, there are good and bad aspects of it. I admit that most parts of the Elven civilization were bad, but that does not mean that it is an evil empire. However, when Alexanders’ army came and fought their way through the Aeon forest, who knows if the destroyed cities and the innocents killed was good or bad?”

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The young man lowered his head. A massive burst of blood spilled from his body and it seemed that his organs would be eaten by the eagle at any time. He said, “I’ve been living in Aeon forest for most of my life. Naturally, I came to know many aspects of society. I know that all farms were filled with slaves that died daily. I also know that we were fond of literature, and had many great libraries. Yet in a year, all these cities I travelled to were razed.”

“A sage is someone who is more aloof than all but gods. When I saw those inhabitants lined up to be sold as slaves, I should feel nothing. I saw the rulers I advised pierced with countless arrows. I saw the sacred groves collapsing in flame. I saw cities of ashes and blood that replaced the great rivers that flowed through the forest, stopping at the foot of the bridge Alexander built. I suddenly realised that I was very upset.”

Ovid frowned and said, “That is enough.”

The young mn gazed at him with compassion, as he slowly shook his head, he said, “I do not blame the people that took part in the slaughter, as that is human nature to be cruel. I just want to understand. What is a saint? How do they differ from everyone else”

“If we differentiate by skill, a saint is a saint because they are strong enough to be called one. Then again, which saint is born all-powerful? When they were a child, had they also not been vulnerable? Do they stagnate the moment they enter sainthood? No, they continue to grow more powerful until their death.”

“If it depends on one’s longevity, then there has never truly been a saint. History has shown us that nothing is eternal, even gods could perish, not to even mention saints, so how can something last forever?”

The young man quietly stared at the youngster infront of him and said slowly, “When more than twenty million were killed and conquered. I lived in guilt for numerous years after that day and have been thinking of this question.”

Ovid remained silent as he thought about the man’s words. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

After a while, Ovid raised his head and said, “The argument seems flawed. A human is integrated into this world. The gruel he eats and the water he drinks will return to the land along with the rest of his body upon death. A saint, however, keeps a hold of the mana they absorbed, never returning it back to the world. In a sense, they are quite similar to black holes in that they take in matter, but never let out anything.”

Ovid’s voice was extremely firm, determined and clear. When he had already formed a strong opinion on a matter, he could always present his arguments calmly and strongly. He lowered his voice and said, “The difference between a saint and an ordinary person comes not from power and longevity, but from the fact that one is integrated with the world, while the other one consumes its resources. While a saint starts as an ordinary person, at the end of their journey, they are more akin to a concept.”

Of course, if one reaches the end of such judgement, there is a very likely possibility that the essence of the world will be absorbed in its’ entirety. As the universe is a finite existence, and matter cannot be destroyed and created, the only fate awaiting is the end of the world.

Ovid’s’ logic was so incredibly simple. So simple in fact that it was near impossible to argue against.

Yet Glafx was someone who had spent one hundred thousand years in contemplation. As he had seen more, thought about the subject longer and learned in a hard way, he was able to refute this near impossible logic.

The young man looked at Ovid warmly and said, “Although there are some unfamiliar words, I once held the same beliefs as you. However, after I shall the elves and Gael’s death, and noticed their relationship with the world, my thinking has changed. You were the same as me in the past. Both of us had forgotten an important detail.”

“Even though saints can prevent the mana in their body from seeping back into the world, they still need to expend it to live. Humans are not idle creatures, and we cannot be like the rocks by the lake and sit still. Eventually, the mana they absorbed for countless years would be used up, and return to earth.”

The young man kept silent for a moment before he smiled gently and said, “After you understand this, you would comprehend the difference between saints and normal man is minimal. Instead of acting as aloof being, whether that be kings or as scholars, saints should rather participate in the world.”

“Born as weak and meek infants under the starry sky. They gain enlightenment through mediation and prayers. In the end, their bodies turned into ashes as their aura is dispersed and their soul returns to the River Styx. It may be true that each of them walks different paths, but their beginning and ending point are the same. If that’s the case, can you tell me essentially, what’s the difference between an ordinary person and a saint?”

Ovid was taken aback and could not answer this question. Though he felt that there was something wrong with Glafx’s words, he could not come up with a response in such a short amount of time.

The young man glanced at him peacefully and said, “I know what you’re thinking. Saints are immortal beings, and they certainly will absorb more mana than they expend. What even Alexander knew that the eternal life of saints is false. Over the countless years, the world has existed, only Julia had yet to perish. But it does not mean she will live forever.”

Ovid massaged his temples, brushing past his black hair that was flowing weakly. He seemed disappointed. It seemed that those words definitely affected his mental state. While he was a person that would adapt his belief to someone else’s, the foundations of his thinking had remained the same since his earliest days. There were no loopholes in Glafxs’ words and he could not find a single sentence to rebuke him.

The young man seemed to sense his insecurities and fears, he looked at Ovid with pity and compassion. He sighed softly before raising his right arm with great difficulty. A bright light shone between his fingers.

Ovid was confused as he looked over, but he could clearly sense the holy aura emitting from the stick-like fingers of the sage.

“That year, I was confined by Gael many miles underground. Although he was at the weakest stage of his life, I did not resist him. At this place, I could only subsist on the dews collecting on the sacred groves’ leaves. At the same time, my organs would be eaten by the eagle every day. The dew contains the qualities of the saint, yet blood and death naturally has the qualities of a mortal. Over one hundred thousand years, I hung between the purest of life and death.”

The young man looked quietly at the holy light revolving between his fingers. He calmly said, “When the two meets, a miracle is created.”